Of Moths And Squid
by MintaMeeta
Summary: Sara drags Grissom to a cooking class where odd things happen. Warning: Character death. Even though he isn't important, we thought we'd let you know.


TITLE: Of Moths and Squid

AUTHOR: Marita Linde and Minttown1

RATING: PG-13

CATEGORY: Humor / Weirdness

SPOILERS: Too Tough to Die and The Finger (barely)

SUMMARY: Sara drags Grissom to a cooking class where odd things happen. Warning: Character death. Even though he isn't important, we thought we'd let you know.

ARCHIVAL: Yes, just let one of us know. The other will find out telepathically. We're cool that way.

DISCLAIMER: There's squid about! Also, we don't own CSI or any of what we used in here. Actually, Amber did invent moth sex. We're taking credit for that one.

MEETA'S NOTES: Amber kicks butt at writing funny fiction. We had a lot of fun writing this which will probably become evident to you when you read this. Two words: corn chips.

AMBER'S NOTES: Meeta kicks more butt, but you know. Enjoy.

DEDICATION: For Andi, Devanie, and Laura, two-thirds of which the spell checker say don't exist.

~*~*~*~*~

Grissom looked nervously at the brick facade of the South Southwestern Las Vegas High School. He never had any intention of setting foot back inside one of those evil, evil places, yet here he was.

Only one person could make him do this: Sara Sidle.

Sara, for her part, was walking way too close and smelling way too good.

"Sara," Grissom started, "I'm not too sure about this."

"You said to get a diversion, Grissom. So I did. But I need a partner, and you know I don't have any friends."

He didn't know if that was just a stupid excuse or the truth, so he kept quiet and walked beside her till they got to the classroom where the class was being held. When he held the door open for her, she beamed at him, which in turn caused his heart to skip two or three beats.

"Grissom!" Sara hissed, taking his hand, causing another incident of beat skippage. "Look!" She pointed across the room to where Catherine and Warrick were sitting at a table. They certainly did not appear very studious.

Grissom raised an eyebrow and continued to stare ahead of him, where Catherine was seated on the cooking counter. Warrick was feeding her strawberries. She didn't seem to be minding very much, either, by the looks of it.

Sara giggled. "Looks like they learned everything they need to know already."

"What?" Grissom looked alarmed yet aroused, as he usually did whenever Sara said something resembling sexual banter. "Maybe we should just leave."

"No, I have a better idea." Sara had that glint in her eye, that glint that told him that she had an idea.

She led him up to the counter beside where Warrick and Catherine were still giving their public display of affection and handed him a strawberry. Grissom stared at her in disbelief, his eyes wide, and gulped as she smiled seductively up at him. "What's that for?" he asked, pretending to be oblivious.

"To eat. Damn, and they call you a genius?"

"They do?"

"Yeah. Well, they either call you a genius or an asswipe." Somehow she was still sexy, even saying that.

He started to feed Sara the strawberry, and just before her lips reached his fingers, there was a loud crash from where Catherine and Warrick had been sitting.

"No way, Warrick, am I going to let Sara Sidle act sluttier than me!"

Suddenly Catherine was on the floor with Warrick, cottage cheese and fruit surrounding them like the border of love. She kissed him passionately while the rest of the class watched in odd fascination. Sara turned to Grissom with a grin on her face.

"Are you going to let them show us up like that?"

"Yes, because we are not a couple," Grissom reasoned.

"Do you really want Warrick to think you took a cooking class for a woman you weren't even sleeping with? You might as well cut your balls off and leave them in the locker room."

"What?"

"Don't do that. We might need them someday."

"What?!"

Instead of answering his repeated inquiry, she pulled him into a hot kiss, the first they had shared in half a decade.

Grissom was just in the midst of getting lost in the kiss when he heard a loud -buzz!- from behind him. All the students turned to see what the commotion was, curiosity written on their faces.

The woodchipper gleamed in the early evening light, and everyone present gasped. At the bottom of the hideous, powerful machine lay the bloodied body of none other than Nick Stokes.

"Nick?" Sara looked disturbed, but she also really just wanted to get back to Grissom's place so she they could have wild moth sex on the floor. "Can't the dayshift get this?"

"No." Grissom was in work-mode now, hiding all signs of his previously turned on state. Damn android.

The teacher of the course, Mr. Emeril Lagasse, sidled up to Grissom and fiddled with his hands nervously. "So, is that yer buddy in the woodchipper there?" He asked.

Grissom cleared his throat, raised an eyebrow and said, "Yes." He eyed the blood on Emeril's shirt curiously. "What's that from?"

Emeril shrugged. "Had a little blow-out with the cow carcass. You know, 'Bam!'"

"Nick!" Grissom turned toward the high scream, only to find Nick's cooking partner, Greg Sanders.

"Greg, you can't be here. You haven't had field training."

"Nick," Greg whimpered. Sara put her arm around him and led him gently out into the hall.

Grissom's emotion chip was going haywire. No one was allowed in a hallway with his plant except for him. Time to do some grieving lab tech beating.

He followed the two out into the hallway and turned to Sara. "I just want to..." He awkwardly put a hand on Greg's shoulder. "...offer him support alone, okay, Sara?"

She nodded and left to go back to the crime scene. Grissom turned to Greg and eyed him venomously. "Don't ever try to be alone with my plant again, you got that Greg?"

"Your plant?" Greg asked, but then saw the look on Grissom's face and gulped quickly, nodding. "Right."

"Good." He left to go back to Sara.

"How's Greg?" Sara asked when Grissom rejoined her.

"Enlightened," Grissom replied cryptically. "Can someone get the body moved so we can start processing the scene?"

"I can move the body." There, backlit by either a heavenly glow or a florescent refrigerator bulb, was Hank.

"Hank? What are you doing here?" Sara asked, her voice high like she'd been sucking helium like that freaky helium-sucking bunny in 'The Finger'...

"I came because I love you and I want to sweep you off your feet with an all-expenses-paid trip to Tahiti." Hank answered, stretching out his hand towards her. "Will you come with me?"

"Hank, I can't possibly go to Tahiti with a man who I refer to as 'Dorkbutt' in my head." Hank looked sort of creepily and lecherously at her, because that's what it is called when one does not return the affections of his or her admirer.

"Come on. Tahiti. Me. What more could you ask for?"

Sara looked desperately for someone to save her, but Grissom was nowhere to be found. "Greg!" She pulled Greg quickly to her side and kissed him nearly as passionately as a squid kisses a boat.

"Nick just died! I need time to grieve before I get involved with someone else, Sara."

"Shut up!" Sara turned back to Hank. "See, I can't go to Tahiti with you, because I'm dating Greg."

"Greg!" There went Grissom's emotion chip again.

"What the hell do you think you're doing kissing, Sara?" he yelled. His angry chip was on full blast now, and he was moving towards Greg at a earth-shattering speed. Several windows broke. Warrick's hair became flat. Fortunately, Catherine's stayed the same because of all the hairspray she puts in there.

"I didn't kiss her, she kissed me!" Greg was trying to defend himself. Obviously.

Hank shook his head. "I'm out of here. You people are weird."

"Wait, Hank!" Catherine called. "Can I go to Tahiti with you?"

Warrick finally spoke. "Cat!"

"What, Warrick?!"

"You can't go to Tahiti with him."

"Why the hell not?" she asked empoweredly.

"Because I love you."

"Because you love me?! That's a really dumbass reason." Catherine retorted, but then flung herself into his arms and kissed him passionately for the 17th1/2 time that night.

Grissom rolled his eyes and turned towards Sara. "How could you do this to me? And with GREG?"

"Hey!" Greg folded his arms defensively.

Sara looked at Grissom sheepishly and whispered, "I've got a really bad craving for corn chips right now."

"I have no idea what that spawned from, but I don't want to hear it." Grissom turned on his heel and left Sara standing there, staring wistfully after him.

"So, Sara, Tahiti?"

"No, Hank, damnit! Take Greg."

Greg looked at Hank, who he hated on principle. Poor Hank was hated on principle by everyone but Catherine.

"I really am leaving now." And Hank disappeared from their lives forever. Hurrah!

Across the room, Grissom was staring forlornly at the half-eaten strawberry that had fallen from his fingers.

Catherine and Warrick were still making out and the crime scene was pretty much left alone. For you see, no one really cared who killed Nick. Sara sighed and walked up to Grissom, putting a hand on his shoulder. He looked at her and gave his usual half-smile.

"I didn't enjoy the kiss. I promise." 

"How could you? It's GREG!" 

A loud, "Hey!" sounded from behind them. They didn't even have to turn around to know it was Greg, once again trying to defend himself. Obviously.

"I know, Grissom, but you weren't there when I needed you."

Sara watched as his guilty chip activated, but Grissom seemed unable to muster an output.

Sara shook her head sadly. "Look at Warrick and Catherine over there, practically having passionate sex on the counter, because he was able to tell her how he felt. But you, you just manage to talk in these vague cryptic lameass riddles..." She trailed off.

"Do you want me to be more like Warrick? Do you want me to pin you down on the counter and smear butter in your hair?" He asked her. She only nodded, wondering if he would comply.

He then grabbed her by the shoulders, kissed her passionately and was about to grab the margarine container when they heard a loud voice scream, "All right, fine! I admit I killed him!"

"Killed who?" Grissom asked breathlessly.

"Nick," Emeril replied.

Blank stares.

"The guy in the woodchipper," Emeril clarified.

"Oh. Why would you kill Nick?" Sara asked. "He's harmless."

"I was jealous. I want Greg all to myself." Emeril said, and watched as the people present nodded in understanding.

"Makes sense." Grissom motioned to Brass who cuffed Emeril and took him out of the room. 

Catherine and Warrick came up for air. The rest of the students left but the two couples remained in the room.

"I just can't believe that many people wanted Greg," Catherine mused.

"Yo," Warrick nodded in agreement.

"Greg's not so ba..." She trailed off at Grissom's glare.

"What do you say we go back to your apartment and you show me your.." Sara stopped when she saw Catherine staring at her with an amused expression. "...butterfly collection."

Grissom grinned. "Sure!"

Between the wild buttery moth sex and Nick's death, the night proved to be a blessing for everyone involved. Turns out high schools have a purpose after all.

The End.

(Because the pot ran out.)


End file.
